


Bring Out The Funk

by Catnerys



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fights, Fluff, Holding Hands, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Mutual Pining, Practice Kissing, Slow Burn(ish), Vacation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-19 17:55:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19137745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catnerys/pseuds/Catnerys
Summary: Tensions are high in the studio and, unable to take it all, John takes a spontanous trip to Bali. Or at least he wants to. The only problem is, the hotel he wants to go to is a couples' resort and so he asks Brian to ditch recording and pretend to be his boyfriend so he can finally have some peace and quiet. That shouldn't be too hard now, should it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First off, english is not my first language so if anything is weird or wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.  
> Second, this is totally self-indulgent and comes from my love for fake-dating fools and Breaky.  
> And last but not least, shout out to Pax, who so patiently listened to my rambles, thank you!  
> (Btw, find me on tumblr @deaky-disco-queen if you want to)

John’s day had barely started and he already had a headache. It was a persistent, throbbing pain along his temples to the back of his head and it made his day hell. The lights hurt so much that he had to steal Roger’s sunglasses to even survive being in the studio, every sound was grating on his nerves and reading the music and lyric sheets was just awful.

The worst thing was the fighting. They were fighting almost every day and when they were not arguing, they were not talking to each other because they were still mad at each other from the day before. It was wearing him thin. They had started working on this album three weeks ago and all John wanted was to go to sleep and never come back to the studio again but he couldn’t do that because they had to finish first and that could take several months. All of them were perfectionists and they wouldn’t allow anything but the best on the final product. It was impossible to tell how long it would take until everyone was happy.

“-too slow! It sounds fucking awful!”

John didn’t even look up. Roger was yelling- again- and Freddie arguing back just as loudly. It was the same every day. If he tried, he would probably be able to predict what they were going to say. He didn’t try. Instead, he focused on the magazine he was pretending to read.

He skipped over the pages with too much text until he came across a traveling ad. The pictures showed beautiful beaches, forests and nicely decorated hotel rooms. It all was labeled ‘Bali’ and he sighed wistfully. Vacation sounded lovely.

A loud cymbal crash made him flinch. Roger had given into the temptation of throwing a tantrum and was now banging his drums with no regard to anyone else in the room. Freddie was still yelling but didn’t stand a chance against Roger’s stubbornness.

John decided to flee the scene. His head was pounding now and he stumbled into the inner yard. In his hurry to leave he had taken the magazine with him but he dropped it carelessly to the ground to pat down his pockets for his cigarettes and lighter.

His fingers were shaking when he lit his cigarette. He would need a shot or two before he could produce anything useful today.

Taking a deep drag, he leaned back against the wall. The beach shots were taunting him. With another sigh, he picked the magazine back up and skimmed over the text.

“Of fucking course.” He mumbled angrily. “A couples’ resort.”

John knew he wasn’t being fair. It wasn’t the magazine’s fault that he was stressed and his love life was as exciting as waiting in line at the post office. He didn’t know how that happened. Between being a rock star- an actual rock star, he could barely believe it but their last album had hit the charts and people were actually starting to recognize them more and more- and not being too bad looking, one might think he would actually score at least once.

He flicked his stub far much more aggressively than he would do normally. He smoked that cigarette too fast and immediately fished for a new one. It was his last one.

“You really should slow down with the smoking.”

The cigarette landed on the ground before he even managed to light it. Defeated, he just looked at it for a second before sighing and turning towards the voice.

Brian was standing on the steps to the studio, bundled up in a warm coat because he was smarter than John and did not brace London in February in only a short sleeved button down. He smiled, tired but sincerely, and held up John’s own coat for him to see.

“Shut up and give me my coat.”

Thankfully, he didn’t argue and walked over to him. The coat was warm and John pulled it tight around him. He hadn’t even noticed how cold he had been.

“How are you doing?”

If anyone else had asked John this, he would have snapped. He had no nerve for stupid, empty small talk but Brian had been through almost the same tensions and wasn’t asking to just make conversation. Brian worried a lot. About the world, about animals, about them. He was much more subtle than Freddie, who was always ready to make a big deal about taking care of them or Roger, who kicked down doors if it meant helping his friend.

And John was tired. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a full night’s sleep without being completely drunk. Passing out into his bed for twelve hours didn’t really count as a good night’s rest. John was tired of getting angry at every little thing, of screaming at his friends every day and especially of the splitting headaches.

He gestured at himself with a self-deprecating smile.

“How does it look?”

Brian’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, squeezing slightly. There were no empty phrases, just silent comfort. He appreciated that. The guitarist nudged the magazine with his foot.

“Looks nice, where is it?”

“Bali. But couples’ resort. So, not for me.” He ran a hand through his short hair. “I need a vacation.”

“We all do. Ready to go back inside?”

John nodded and picked up the magazine and the cigarette- otherwise Brian would probably snark at him- and followed him into the studio.

+++

Somehow, the next day was even worse. Freddie and Roger were ignoring each other but were making sure the other knew they were being ignored. It made working almost impossible.

“It’s not too slow.” John said through gritted teeth. “You’re speeding, Rog.”

“I’m not! I’m perfectly on beat!”

John shook his head, fingers clenching around his bass. The headache had come back with vigor and he had no patience for his fighting bandmates. He took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice as calm as he could. There was no need to cause more tension.

“You’re not. Everyone but you matches in speed so you’re wrong.”

He knew he had failed when Roger angrily pushed his stool back and marched right up to John. “It’s my fucking song! I know how to play it because I wrote it!” He pushed him back several times, not hard enough to make him fall but he did stumble backwards.

“You saying, I don’t know how to play my own fucking song? It’s my song! I wrote it! How about, instead of telling me I’m playing my song wrong, you write a bloody song for a change, huh?”

Carefully, John placed his bass to the side and then pushed Roger out of his personal space. He knew the drummer just tried to get a rise out of him by criticizing his songwriting and he was falling right for it but he didn’t care.

“Shut up! What do you know? At least I’m writing actual good stuff and not non-sense bullshit about fucking a car!”

Next thing he knew, they were yelling at each other. It was ugly, fueled by pent up frustrations and insecurities. Roger grabbed a glass and threw it against the wall when Freddie and Brian rushed in to try and defuse the situation. It didn’t work because since Freddie was still angry at Roger he was taking John’s side even though he probably didn’t know about what they were fighting.

John left. He had enough and just ducked underneath Freddie’s arm, stepped over the glass shards that were still decorating the floor and rushed out of the studio. Someone was yelling after him but he decided to ignore it.

He stopped in a stairwell and slipped down the wall onto the floor. He knew Roger didn’t mean to be rude and John didn’t hate Roger’s song but they were all stressed and aimed to hurt. And it wasn’t like Roger was wrong. John didn’t write as many songs as the others but he also knew it wasn’t a problem; the others had made sure he knew that.

“Deaky?”

“Down here.”

Brian appeared on top of the steps and John waved weakly. The guitarist sat down next to him and pulled him into a side hug.

“Is Rog alright?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. We’re done for today, though. He and Freddie left already.”

John groaned and leaned more onto Brian, who pulled him closer. John felt like crying. This album was definitely the worst. It’s not that they never fought over songs before, it just never got out of hand this often or fast ever before.

“I’m sorry.” John could feel Brian stiffen next to him.

“It’s not your fault, no need to apologize.”

John pulled back, absently mussing his hair before burying his face in his hands. Brian’s hand came to rest on his back, rubbing gently between his shoulder blades.

“I need a vacation.” It came out far much more desperate than he meant to.

“It’s only a couple of weeks more. You-“

“No! I mean, I need a vacation! Now. I can’t work like this and it’s not getting better! Everybody is fighting all the time, we’re not getting anywhere with the songs because we’re so busy shouting at each other all the time! It’s just not working out!”

He stood up so fast he got dizzy and had to hold onto the railing. Unshed tears pricked his eyes and he angrily rubbed his face and took a deep breath to not let them spill. It was the last thing he needed right now.

“I just can’t. It’s too much. When was the last time we had any free time? We’re always either touring or in the studio and there is never time for anything else.”

Brian didn’t say much more but he did guide him back into the recording room and made him a cup of tea. It was awful because they only had a weird pistachio and lime blend and John preferred the more classic blends but he appreciated the gesture and drank it anyway.

He looked around the room while Brian tried to make his tea better by adding a lot of milk and sugar. The magazine he read yesterday was still there. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head.

“Come to Bali with me.” He blurted out.

“What?”

He grabbed the magazine, flipped through it until he found the ad again and showed it to Brian.

“Last-Minute-Reservations are possible.” John told him.

“It’s still a couples’ resort.”

“I don’t care. I need a break. Also, why do you think I asked you to join me? I don’t have the nerve to look for something else I can book as soon as possible and Bali sounds great! And who cares, honestly? Are they going to check? We just say we are a couple. Why shouldn’t they believe us?”

Brian looked at him as if he was mad and honestly, John felt a bit crazy but mostly tired and desperate.

“Please, Bri. Please.”

Brian sighed and met John’s eyes. A moment passed, and then he sighed again.

“Alright, fine. Freddie and Roger will kill us but fine.”

John smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

They left the next day. Booking went so smoothly that John was almost convinced the universe actually wanted them to ditch work but he was not enough of an optimist to see it as a good omen. 

Before driving to the airport, they made a short stop at the studio and left a note that just said ‘Went to Bali’, signed by the both of them. They also told management about their trip because otherwise they would come back to a giant shit storm and neither wanted that. 

Packing had been a hectic affair but thankfully Brian, ever prepared and organized, had sent him a checklist he found on the internet. John would have forgotten so much otherwise. But now they were on the plane and had a seventeen hour flight between them and their vacation. 

John had called dibs onto the window seat, knowing Brian would not complain because he usually got up a couple of times to stretch his abnormally long legs. 

“We need to talk about our story.” Brian mumbled after the flight assistant talked them through the safety instructions. 

John nodded and motioned for him to continue. 

“Alright. We need to get the story on line. Just in case anyone asks. So, how long we’re together, when we met and such stuff. And… how much PDA we’re comfortable with.” 

“Yeah, good idea. Let’s keep it simple, though. We met… well, why lie? We met when I joined the band. And we got together a year or two ago?” 

Brian made an agreeing sound and wrote something onto his phone. Knowing him, it probably was what they were talking about, just to be sure. It was a very Brian thing to do. “About the PDA… I don’t actually think we need to put on too much. It’s just a hotel, right? So hand holding should be enough.” he mused. 

The flight attendant stopped by their seats then and offered snacks and drinks. John took a water bottle and so did Brian. After she left, Brian got his tablet and his headphones out of his bag while John had a book to pass some time. It didn’t take overly long for John to get drowsy. He had stayed up late to finish packing and woke up early to catch the flight, so it was no surprise he was close to falling asleep in just a few hours. 

A gentle tug at his book startled him awake but it was just Brian, who placed John’s bookmark between the pages and took it from his lax hands. 

“Sh, go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when there’s food. Do you want an eye mask and a pillow maybe?”

Still half asleep, John only managed to mumble something incoherent but Brian seemed to understand anyway and passed him an eye mask and a neck pillow. He got comfortable and slipped right back into sleep. 

Brian did wake him for food, even if it was a more than underwhelming meal. 

They managed to pass a little more time by watching some nature documentary on Brian’s tablet, sharing the headphones and playing some travel scrabble. Brian fell asleep not much later, awkwardly hunched up in his seat. 

The flight dragged on for much longer than John would have liked but it was the price they had to pay for vacation and he sighed in relief when they finally landed. It was just about ten in the morning in Bali which didn’t help with the tiredness that had overcome them both. The taxi ride to the resort was quiet; both of them fighting to stay awake.

The resort was really pretty from what John could see. They were greeted by a woman that carried a tablet with fruit cocktails and both of them took one because they simply looked delicious. 

“Welcome to Paragon Resort, gentlemen. What can we do for you?”

“Hello, John Deacon and Brian May. We booked a room.” 

The receptionist shot them an obviously practiced smile meant for guests and started typing something in her computer. 

“Ah, yes, Mr. Deacon and Mr. May. Bungalow six is yours, sirs. Here are your keys and the list with mandatory couples’ activities the resort offers. There are two dinners per week where you can choose activities like tours and such. The rest of the planning will be done by the staff to make your vacation as comfortable as possible.” 

“Wait, mandatory? Like, we have to attend?” John asked. 

This was not good. They had planned to avoid the staff and other guests as much as possible because they were no couple. Their whole plan relied on the fact that they would not have to act like a couple that often. He glanced at Brian. 

“Yes, but don’t worry, you will still have enough free time to enjoy your holidays. Our staff aims to optimize your experience as far as possible and the pre-planned activities have proofed to be the most stress free experience for the couples.” 

John swallowed hard and tried to find something to say without ratting them out already. Thankfully, Brian came to his rescue. He wrapped his arm around John’s waist and took the keys and the list from the receptionist. 

“Thank you, we’ll take a look at the list.” 

“Great. The first dinner is today at six. Enjoy your stay at Paragon Resort!” 

Brian led him in the direction of the bungalows while their suitcases were taking care of by staff. The bungalows were arranged in small groups around a pool landscape. It looked quite beautiful but John was too distracted by his plan failing literal minutes after arriving to take in his surroundings. Their bungalow for the next two weeks was very pretty. It consisted of a living room, a bathroom, a bedroom and a small veranda. There were also a lot of rose petals on the bed and a bottle of champagne was provided for them and John immediately felt even worse. This was lovely. Any other couple would love this and he and Brian were just wasting all this. 

Brian thanked the hotel clerk before closing the door and sighed really loudly. John just crumbled and fell into the sofa, burying his face in his hands. 

“This went well.” 

He looked up and met Brian’s eyes, a hysterical chuckle escaping him. His heart was still pounding in his chest. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “Sorry for dragging you into this. This bullshit is my fault.”

Brian shook his head and sat down next to him. “It’s fine. I could have said no after all. But I think we need to put a bit more effort into it than just a cover story.” 

“Like what?”

“More handholding, general more PDA, what couples usually do at a dinner and so on.” Brian paused for a moment. “Kissing?” 

John’s head snapped up. Wide eyed, he stared at his band mate, who backpedaled immediately. “Not like, making out! Just, closed mouth kisses. It’s what couples do.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Should- should we maybe practice? I mean, it would look more convincing, right?” 

John thought about it for a moment and then nodded because Brian was right. If anyone was to believe their act, they had to look as convincing as possible to not raise any suspicions. 

Brian held out his hand and after a second of hesitation, John took it. It took some fumbling because while Brian tried to grasp his hand, John was trying to interlock their fingers. They giggled awkwardly. The first thing he noticed was how big Brian’s hand was. John hands weren’t exactly small but easily covered completely by the guitarist’s. 

“Is this alright?” 

John nodded silently. Brian was far too nice. He should have just told him he wouldn’t come along, wouldn’t have to lie for the sake of a holiday and could be working on his music right now. But instead John had made him come here and forced him to do all this. He couldn’t help but feel guilty about the whole situation.  
Brian squeezed his hand gently. His other hand came up and caressed his cheek for a moment before cupping his head. John’s heart skipped a beat and his face heated up.

“You still good?” Brian asked again. 

“Yeah. Yeah, go on. Let’s get this done. I really need a nap.” 

His thumb brushed over John’s cheekbone. Then, he leaned in pressed a short kiss on his lips. It was barely more than a peck and John had no time to react to it before Brian’s hand slid down to his neck, angled John’s head a bit to the side and kissed him again, longer this time but still closed-mouthed. John’s eyes slipped close and he brought his hands up to Brian’s shoulders.

After a few seconds, Brian leaned back with a smile. 

“This wasn’t half bad. We probably should go over it before we go to dinner but let’s take a nap. I’ll go clean off the rose petals off the bed.” 

With this, Brian stood up and left for the bedroom. John blinked at the space where he had been just a moment ago, lips still tingling.


End file.
